A/N: Hey guys! Short chapter I know, but they will be getting longer for awhile after this. Thanks a lot for the wicked reviews. Means to the world to me, it really does.

Chapter Eight

Sam took a sharp intake of breath when he saw his brother. Dean was lying in his hospital bed and for a second Sam thought that his big brother was dead. The older hunter was so pale that he couldn't be alive, that was until Sam saw the small rise and fall of his chest. Exhaling Sam walked quietly up to his brother, as if making noise would be blasphemy in the quietness of the room.

The young hunter sensed his father behind him as he pulled up a chair and sat next to the side of Dean's bed. He reached out to touch his brother, in need of the physical contact but withdrew his hand no knowing where to put it without hurting the older man.

John stood behind Sam, a reassuring hand on his shoulder and looked at his son. Oh god Dean looked so small, young and vulnerable that John found himself on the verge of tears.

Taking a deep breath to get the bravery he required Sam gently worked his way around the IV in Dean's hand and held it gently, "Dean. You're safe now. Me and Dad are here and we aren't gonna let anything bad happen to you. You'll be okay bro, we'll work through this. You're safe Dean, you're safe." Sam cooed softly hoping his brother could hear his supportive words.

It was easy to tell that Dean had been on the bad end of a fight. He looked terrible and Sam was glad that he was out on some pretty heavy duty painkillers. The skin that Sam could see was pale and where it wasn't pale it was black and blue. There were cuts all over his arms and face and his neck was all bruised and red from when that bastard had hung him. Sam knew there were more wounds across his brother that were covered in bandages and clothes. His older brother's breathing was slow and shallow and to Sam's ears sounded painful. It was the internal injuries that worried him most though. He hoped that when Dean woke up that he would just be okay even if Sam knew it wasn't going to be like that.

Perhaps had he not seen what that bastard was doing to his brother then Dean might have faired better mentally, but it didn't play out that way. Dean was going to be worse off because Sam had seen it happen. Dean had always hated anyone seeing him in a weakened position. Especially Sam or John. And Sam truly believed that Dean knowing that Sam had seen 'it' was what had sent him over the edge.

The nurse came into Dean's room after around fifteen minutes and asked the two men to leave. Sam grudgingly let Dean's hand go and left the room. He was relieved to see that Dean was alive but with that a whole new bunch of worries had appeared. For example, would Dean still want to live when he woke up? He pushed the thought aside. Of course his brother would want to live, he was a Winchester after all.

Sam and John drove back to the house to pick up the Impala and then spent the night at the closest motel to the hospital. Neither spoke, both were in a sort of shocked trance after everything that had happened in the last twenty four hours. Sam sat dejected at the room's table and fingered his food they had picked up on the way back in a disinterested way. He had no appetite, his stomach in stressed knots not letting him eat no matter how much he knew he should or how much his father encouraged him.

John looked up at his son from his own half eaten burger, "Sam what the hell happened out there? I thought I trained you boys better than that. How did that psycho get his hands on you?" he asked, his curiosity and anger finally winning out.

The young hunter gulped. He had been hoping to avoid this question longer even though he had known it would come up eventually. Steadying himself against what he knew was going to come Sam took in a deep breath and spoke, "We were working a case. A string of disappearances from the area. We were interrogating him, trying to get a feel for the neighborhood, you know, see if there was anything supernatural behind it. He invited us in and we had some drinks. He must have put something in the drinks because when I woke we were tied up in that room."

"Jesus Sam. You boys should have known better. Dean should have known better, he's been doing this longer than you." John paused regretting his words instantly. It could have happened to him just as easily. But he was just so angry at the moment he had to vent and blame someone even though he knew he should be blaming the sick fuck who had done this. He did blame that bastard and hated him with a hate so pure it scared him.

"Dad!" Sam said shocked and angered that his father would blame this all on Dean like that. It was as much Sam's fault as it was Dean's.

"I know. I'm sorry. I'm just so worried about you boys. I can't lose you. I won't." John said, his tone quiet and eyes down on his half eaten food.

Sam did a double take. Had his father just said he was wrong and apologized? Then again looking into his father's eyes he realized that John had put away his hunting self and was just being a concerned father and dealing with this in the best way he could.

"Get some sleep Sam. You look like death warmed over." John quipped.

"Hey you're not looking to good there yourself. When was the last time you got any sleep?" Sam smirked and raised his eyebrows quizzically to his father.

"You're not calling me old are you son?" his father returned with an amused yet serious grin on his face.

"I'm just saying that as people get older they need more sleep." Sam joked back. It was after all how the Winchester men dealt with things. Right now they would joke with each other so they would laugh in stead of cry, which if they wanted to admit it or not, was what they wanted to do deep down.

"Yeah well you youngins need your rest too." John laughed, stood up and slapped Sam affectionately on the shoulder. He then walked over to the bed closest the door, toed his shoes of and laid down, his eyes closed, "Night Sam."

"Night Dad." Sam replied. He sat at the table for around another long hour, worrying about his brother before his body reminded him that it had been through a hell of his own. Eyes dropping closed Sam yawned and put his head down on his folded arms, to tired to even make it to the bed, and fell asleep.

Yeah, I know Dean probably should have been on a ventilator but meh, artistic license with this one. I just didn't want it. The last few chapters have been bridge chapters but the story will be picking up again next post. Please review! If you guys can WoW me I'll update again tomorrow ;) Thanks for reading.

Mishka xXx